Happy birthday, darlin
by PoppadomsAndPilauRice
Summary: Peters birthday 2020
1. Chapter 1

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This will be a couple of parts...for it is set in April 2020...inspiration taken from the scenes on Peter's birthday, earlier this year. I felt like writing a fluffy/angst fiction, although it is really mindless drivel.

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The welcome aroma of frying bacon greeted Peter's nostrils as he awoke from a very peaceful, restful night's sleep. He sighed contentedly, instinctively reaching out a hand to Carla's side of the bed, as he had grown accustomed to doing of a morning, a small frown etching across his face as his fingers collided with the soft material of the bedspread.

He missed her, even though he knew she would only be down stairs. He let a soft smile tug as his lips as he contemplated how lucky he truly was. What had he done to deserve her?. What had he done to deserve waking up and drinking in her sheer beauty every morning. The way her soft dark tresses fanned out over the pillow as she slept. The way he would lie there for hours, and just watch her sleep, being unable to take his eyes away, not daring to in case she got snatched away, or brake. though he had vowed, nothing, or no-one would tare them apart again.

The way he would always reach out for her hand, linking it firmly, but tentatively in his, raising it up to his lips, and placing the most tender, and softest of kisses upon her skin. Hoping that, whilst she slept, that she would be dreaming, of all the wonderful things she deserved in her future, their future.

Today, he was 55 years old. He could honestly say, that he was the happiest he had ever been. Although the day was only in it's infancy, he knew it would be in vast contrast to his birthday last year. He really had questioned back then, whether the real Carla would ever return to him. It was the tiniest details he now still remembered. The fact she had thought she was too bad to even deserve jam. That had broken him.

Back then though, not even Peter could have imagined, that their nightmare was only just beginning.

Yet, a year on, here they were. Their own flat, their own business, the rest of their lives ahead of them. Of course things were different, Carla was different, but he loved her unconditionlly.

She had her bad days, her down days, days where the paranoia would rear it's ugly head, an unwelcome reminder. Now, the difference was, they were dealing with it. He understood what she needed, when she needed it, when she needed to be silent, when she needed to scream, shout...when she needed to just be, in his arms. He was tuned into her, and she was communicating those needs. She still needed reassurance at times, some guidance that she was doing the right thing, but she was still his Carla, the strong, courageous woman he had always, and would always love.

To spend the rest of his life with her by his side, to protect her, love her, that was all Peter wanted.

The gentle sounds of the bedroom door creeping open, disturbed Peter from his thoughts. He sat up tiredly, rubbing his eyes, propping up the pillows as Carla came into view, clad in a soft, fluffy, white, robe. He could not avert his gaze from her, for even in the early morning, wearing barely a scrap of make-up, her hair scraped back, she looked floorless, beautiful.

'What?' She questioned, her husky, tones, accentuated thick with sleep and the early morning, sending shivers down his spine.

'You,' he said, smirking'.

'What's all this then?' He questioned, referring to the tray, she carried expertly in her hands, laden with bacon sandwiches, fried bed and, 2 steaming cups of coffee.

'Well, I did hear it was someone's birthday ' she offered, reaching Peter, placing the tray gently on the bedside cabinet, before settling down next to Peter who gazed at her, now in amusement.

'What'? She quipped, as he reached out a hand for one of the bacon delights which Peter, had to admit, looked good.

'Mmmmm' he moaned contentedly, as his taste buds enthused with the melting butter,

complimented with the meat which, had been done to his exact liking.

'This is good, baby' he said, an element of surprise in his voice, which did not go un noticed by Carla.

'No need to sound so surprised, my love.' She replied, feigning a look of mock upset

'No...I'm just surprised that our flat's still standing and, our utensils, and oven seem to have escaped unscathed' Peter quipped, receiving a playful nudge from his girlfriend. 'Oi, cheeky!...I had to learn somet living above a cafe, didn't I...although, I can't live up to the full works yet, that's me limit' she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

'It's perfect, thank you, baby' he mused, feeling a rush of love for her serge through every fibre of his being.

They both sat in a companionable silence for a while, eating their breakfast, Carla picking slightly at her food, aware the smell was compounding her nausea, something she was trying to hide from Peter. They sat for what seemed an eternity, not needing to speak, not needing to say a word, just be.

It was Carla who eventually broke the silence. Peter could sense the shift in her mood without needing to say anything. Her eyes glazed over, her body shaking in slight agitation. Peter slowly took hold of her hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of her palm, whilst pulling her closer to him with the other, stroking her back in soothing, circular motions, a gesture which, always seemed to calm her.

She rested her head upon his shoulder, burying into the crook of his neck. Peter did not rush her, he knew that if he just waited, she would talk to him when she was ready.

When she did not speak, he merely offered 'what is it, baby?' Wanting her to know that, she could always talk to him.

'I...I thought I were going to be sayin' happy birthday, behind bars' she said, her voice barely a whisper.

'Oh, love.' He said, lifting her chin up so face him 'shhhhh...don't' he whispered, wanting to desperately get her out of thoughts that he knew would not do her any good.

'I thought this time last year, I'd have nothing. I was alone, hated, despised even' she continued 'but now...I have everything' she said, as she let herself relax

'We've done alright, ain't we Pe'er?' She mused.

'More than alright, my love, we got this, me and you, kid. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Carla' he stated, truthfully.

'Soppy git' she lovingly teased, tightening her grip around him ever so slightly, afraid he would disolve if she didn't.

'Thank you, for everything' she said 'and I hope, I can give you the most perfect birthday...' she said, softly'

'You already have, my love...just being with you, right here, right now, in this moment is present enough for me...'

'There's something else' she whispered, absentmindedly letting go of Peter's hand and, resting it upon her stomach, protectively.

'We will be ok, won't we?' She questioned, almost pleading with him, her eyes searching his for a glimmer of reassurance.

'Of course we will, my darling. We have our whole future to look forward to'

'That's what I'm scared of peter, the future' she stated, matter of factly.

'What do you mean?'

'There's...something I need to tell you Peter, I haven't been completely honest'

'Love, what is it?'

'I ain't been feeling right, for a little while now' 'physically' she hastily added, knowing Peter would instantly fear the worst 'I put it down to stress, y'know of running the bistro...I thought I were takin' on too much...but I noticed I was feelin' worse, not better so, decided to get myself checked out.'

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'I didn't want to worry you, Peter, especially if it wasn't anything to worry about'

And was it, nothing?' Peter enquired...

'Urm, they found something Peter 'Peter I'm'

'Oh god' he interrupted her, his face wearing a look of shear concern

'It's your kidney, isn't it?

Love whatever it is, we'll fight it we'll get the best doctors we can find and'

'Peter'

'I'll be there with you every step I'

'Peter' she repeated in a sturn, but soft, than.

'My kidney is fine...'

'What, then?'

'If you would just let me finish'

She said, a smile creeping across her face, as she lifted her hand up from her stomach, taking his in her's, and placing it down on the very spot her hand had been placed just moments before.

'

Say hello to the newest member of our family, Peter. I'm pregnant, you're going to be a dad.'


	2. Chapter 2

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Firstly, thank you so much for the reviews. I'm glad people are enjoying this. I know I said it would be a couple of parts, but have thought of ways in which I could extend it to a few more so, stay tuned.

Again, thanks for reading.

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A long silence descended upon the couple. Peter desperately trying to digest the information Carla had just revealed, whilst she nervously waited for his reaction, her breath hitching in her throat, as she attempted to to repete her breathing excersises in her head.

' you're. Pregnant' Peter finally managed in a choked stifled tone.

'Yeah...3 weeks it seems' she replied, her voice etched with trepidation and worry, as she struggled to read Peter's expression.

She reached for her cup on the bedside table, greatfully taking 3 large gulps of coffee.

'It's de-cafff' she stated, managing a nervous laugh.

'So...what do you think, Peter?'

She tentatively questioned.

'This' he replied, standing up from the bed and scooping her up in his arms, holding her protectively

'This is amazing news, baby' he confirmed, planting a kiss on the top of Carla's head, before resuming his position on the bed, with her in his arms.

'Is it though?' She mused, her brow furrowed as she turned to face him her green orbs full of uncertainty, her stare reciprocated by his twinkling , soft , gentle , gaze . his brown eyes looking at her with such adoration and love.

''Course, my love...the best'

You really think so?'

'I really, think so, yes'

Carla managed a weak smile

'I'll be a good mum, you know'

'I know, baby'

'But what if they don't agree with you? What if they take it away...from me...for being too mad...too bad?'

'They won't' Peter tried to appease her.

'I bet that's what they thought, you know. In there...' Carla trailed off, peter realising she was referring to a particularly bad episode on the ward.

'You were very ill, my love. But you're better now, getting better all the time. They're there to help you, not conspire against you, remember?. You'll be a wonderful mum, he or her will be very lucky to have you.'

'Just like, our little girl would've been'

Carla stated, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

'I never grieved for her, you know. Not properly. I swallowed it down...right to the pit of my stomach. I threw myself into work, just like I did with everything else...Tony, Frank, Hayley, Aiden,...'

'I never grieved either, Carla' peter admitted, his voice choked

'I never had the right to, because it was my fault, my fault she died, my fault you were left to pick up the peaces'

'No use blaming yourself, peter. I hated you, god I really, hated you...but that, wasn't your fault. It was nature. Maybe I weren't meant to be a mum then. I'm sorry I pushed you away, she was your little girl, too'

'Yeah' peter sighed sadly.

'I haven't really spoken about her before, and I'm scared, that by having this baby, I'll forget about her...if this illness has taught me anything, it's that, I need to let it out...and to move forward, like my consultant said, I need to make sense of things, talk things through. I need to talk about her, I need to talk about my little girl, our little girl.'

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Flashback

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Carla frantically paced the room. Up and down, up and down. She was agitated, so agitated. She could slowly feel the white washed walls caving in on her, engulphing her, tightening their vice like grip around her. Suffocating her.

She needed air, she couldn't breathe. Her breaths escaping in short, shallow, gasps. The crying was getting louder now, more intense. Why couldn't she get to her? She needed to get to her baby. Why wouldn't they let her? Did they not understand she needed her mum.

Her eyes roved around wildly, manicly searching for the sound of the heartbreaking , piercing wailing which penetrated her head. Make. It stop. Please. Make it. Stop.

Her head throbbed, her body conspiring against her. She quickened her steps, but She was so tired, oh so tired. She tried to move again Strong hands now throwing themselves forcefully around her waste. She understood they were trying to restrain her. She could hear him, somewhere, in the distance. He was saying something, but it was muffled. Oh so muffled. The crying and screaming over powering her. She did not realise, the crying was coming from herself, as well as somewhere within the depths of her head.

'It's ok baby, it's ok mummy will be there soon'

She felt her lips move, incoherent words spilling out in torrents. If she could just get to the door. Just get out. Find her baby, comfort her baby. Why couldn't they understand, why?

Her eyes continued to rove around, looking for an escape route. There wasn't any. She frantically searched, until peter came into focus. He'd know what to do.

'You need to go to her peter...she needs her daddy...' she said, her eyes imploring him. She couldn't understand what he was stilll doing there. Why did he not sense the urgency, their baby was distressed. She needed them.

Maybe that was a mother's instinct though. Mothers just know everything, don't they. There isn't a bond as strong as that of a mother and daughter. Her own mother aside clearly, who's only meaningful relationship had been with booze. She vowed she was never going to let her daughter suffer, like she had. She was going to be a mother her daughter would be proud of. So now, she needed to be with her baby.

'You're useless' she berated him 'she needs you and what are you doing? Nothing' she chastised him, her words cutting through him like a knife, though he knew she did not mean any of it. 'Bring me my baby, Peter...I know they don't trust me, I know their spying on me, judging me, waiting for me to mess up..I know about the cameras, the microchip in my ear is still here...I know they've planted a camera in the mirrors...I'm not stupid!. Peter, you need to tell them...you need to make them understand she needs her mum. Make the crying stop, make it stop...bring her here, wherever she is.'

Peter gently took hold of Carla's hand, as she continued to pace the speed now decreasing with exhaustion taking over. Slowly, he guided her back to the bed, motioning for her to sit down.

'Baby, it's ok. She's, not in any pain or danger, I promise you.' He softly said, wanting to choose his words carefully..

'Really?' She tentatively asked, though not wanting to believe it.

'She...there is no baby, my love...you're tired...your mind is tired. Tell you what, why don't I get them to get you something that'll help you sleep, a nice sleep and you'll feel much better.'

'Mmmmmmm' was all she could muster.

Eventually, heavily sedated,her body gave in to the aching tiredness. The screaming in her head subsided. Her eyes flitted shut. Calm descended, as she drifted into a deep sleep free for now, of any pain any worry, the experiences of hearing her baby, for the time, forgotten.

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Present day

'''She was so real to me, you know...Peter, in there. It all felt so real...I could hear her, and it broke me.'

Peter nodded, waiting for her to continue.

'I would've called her Hayley. 'she would've been a right mixture of our looks, would've been a right gobby, stubborn cow like me...enthused with your cheekyness. She would've had a zest for life, and we would have taught her to be strong, brave, and beautiful. Because she would've had the world at her feet. She would've been a stylish queen, probably rading my make-up box at every opportunity. We would've had fun. She wouldn't have taken any prisoners. We would've followed her aspiration sand spirit. I never were maternal. Possibly, because i learnt from my mother, from a very early age that kids were just an inconvenience. . Somet a just , push out and, then continue with your life as if it ain't changed one bit. An afterthought, if ya like. My own mother was never at home. Always at the pub, or with some blokes. So no, I never wanted kids. I don't know what changed but...after I warmed to the idea that we were having a baby I, felt this overwhelming rush of indescribable love. Picking outfits, ...the teddy...I loved it all. , and boy would that kid have grown up with so much love. She would never have wanted for anything. We would've taken her on so many holidays. Shown her the world. Enjoyed the simple pleasures in life. Building sandcastles. Days out. Cuddling her if she fell. Her first day at school. When we lost her Peter, I never felt such pain like it, and I don't mean physically. It felt like my heart had been ripped to peace's. stamped on a thousand times over. I had to learn to pick up the broken peace's. I never truly did that. I couldn't face it. I felt I was jinksed...here was I, never wanted kids and then...' She trailed off, wiping furiously at her eyes.

'So, I tried to rebuild the peace's of my shattered heart...but I'm scared, because if anything happened to this little one in here' she said, gesturing to her stomach ' know I could never come back from this.'

Peter listened intently, trying to stem the tears which were now threatening to spill down his cheeks.

'I felt so pushed out' he admitted sadly 'ou know...everyone asking if you were ok, what you needed...how hard it must've been for you...and I don't resent you, of course I don't but, it felt very isolating. Because I was far from ok. I may not have shown it but I wanted that baby as much as you did. I had so many things going on with...you know...but even through it all, even through the destruction and pain I was causing myself, and everyone around me, all i wanted was to be a family unit with you. I was shocked and yeah, it took a while to adjust but...I really wanted this and, I loved how you wanted it too...how, I was the only person you would even consider having children with. That meant the world to me., and i am so sorry, Carla, so sorry'.

'No, stop saying you're sorry. That was then, and this is now. And in my hour of need, you've come through for me, when no-one else would. You've shown me the true meaning of love. It's about our future now, 'in't it...but I'll need your help, to stay safe, to stay sane.'

He squeezes her hand in response. 'We'll never forget her you know, Carla. We're not replacing her. We're making new memories. And we will tell him, or her, all about their beautiful, angel, baby sister'.

Carla smiled

'Thank you'

'For what?'

'Everything Peter, everything...and, I've been thinking...how about we y'know, make it official again...we love each other, we know, we're going to spend the rest of our lives together...forever...what's stopping us?.

'

'Are you saying what I think you're saying'? Peter enquired, a broad smile threatening to escape'

'Marry me, Peter Barlow. Make an honest woman of me'

Before Peter had a chance to reply, Carla shot up from her position in his arms. Suddenly, she could no longer contain the rising nausea . She needed to be sick.

She ran towards the bathroom, Peter hot on her heels. Making it just in time. As she heaved violently into the toilet bowl Peter crouched down next to her, pulling her hair back from her face, and rubbing her back soothingly.

When the vomiting had subsided, she leaned back, standing up heading to the sink to brush her teeth.

'This little one has a lot to answer for' she said, grinning slightly to herself.

'How about I run you a bath?' Peter suggested.

'That would be lovely...though it's my turn to treat you, your birthday and all' she replied.

'Well...could always make it a bath for two' he commented, winking at her seductively, before turning his attention to the bath busying himself turning the taps on.

As the water began filling the tub, Peter clasped Carla's hand in his. Turning to face her now, he leaned into her, and whispered

'The answer by the way, is yes'.


End file.
